


grand finale

by orangequest



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Destroy Ending, Gen, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Mass Effect 3
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-15 08:17:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4599501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orangequest/pseuds/orangequest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>there is no real ending. it's just the place where you stop the story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. after the battle

Footsteps smacked against pavement, echoing in her head as she struggled just to breathe. She opened her eyes a crack and was blinded as light suddenly hit them. There was movement, someone was moving something above her, around her, on her. “Spirits... someone get medical over here! We’ve got another survivor!”

Blood was all she could taste, and she coughed, hoping to clear her throat and be able to say something, anything. A turian came into view, and she felt her heart stop for a moment. “Garrus...?” she asked, fighting hard to stay conscious.

"She’s Commander Shepard!” More voices, more footsteps; things that never used to bother her now felt like an itch in her skull.

“She’s delirious. We need to get her out of here before she gets an infection. Commander? Hey--stay with me.” Darkness was creeping in and blocking her vision in ugly blotches, and she distantly felt someone shaking her, but it was too hard to hold on. “We’re getting yo...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> quote from frank herbert! this fic is intended to be an exploration of what happens after the destroy ending. the chapters may be loosely or tightly connected, who knows! comments much appreciated!!


	2. the rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> may your glass be ever full. may the roof over your head be always strong.

The remaining forces on Earth collectively decided to risk sending people to the Citadel, a known Reaper structure, to scout the station and rescue survivors. There were six squads of ten for each ward, and each squad was of trained medical staff accompanied by armed soldiers and at least one tech specialist. For five of these squads, the expedition was a peaceful one. A majority of the people who made it to or lived in the far Wards had survived the damage to the Citadel with treatable injuries. Such reports initially gave them hope, but as the sixth squad approached the Presidium ring, they saw no one, not even keepers. Fires continued to burn, the false sky projection had malfunctioned, and worst of all, it was silent. No voices, no footfalls, not a single sign of life.  
  
A human doctor traveling with them insisted they keep pressing ahead. According to her, time was of the essence, and assuming there actually were any survivors in the Presidium, they would need their help. “The Reapers are gone, does it matter?” one of two turian soldiers asked as they neared the base of what was once the Citadel Tower. Concrete chunks, bent steel beams, and the remains of tinted glass panels formed a mountain around the base, and a grave marker for the Council. Like those before them, there was no way they survived.  
  
“Auna.” The turian threw a glance over his cowl and exhaled.  
  
“Fine. Fine! Forget I said anything.”  
  
It was Auna, the one who was supposedly against continuing the search, who found Commander Shepard half-buried towards the foot of the rubble mountain. The galactic hero was drenched in her own blood and barely alive when the doctor identified her. It was discouraging, but not hopeless, not when they knew who she was.  
  
The squad was already split up into two teams by the time they knew the severity of her injuries; the team that rushed her to the shuttle and down to the London field hospital was also the one waiting anxiously outside the hospital for news. The doctors promised nothing, and said very little on her status. For all they knew, the legendary Commander Shepard was already dead. She definitely looked the part when they brought her in from the shuttle.  
  
A heavily-damaged M35 Mako pulled up to the front of the offices-turned-hospital, not far from where Auna and his team stood. At first it seemed that the Mako would just be scouts bringing back the injured and dying, but the human infiltrator with them scrambled to her feet and saluted the man exiting the vehicle.  
  
"At ease. I heard the news about Shepard. What's her condition, exactly?" he asked, eyeing the dark red stains on the turian's armor.  
  
"When we brought her here, she was bleeding out. Now? Who knows. Doctors haven't said a thing."    
  
Dissatisfied with that answer, the man walked between them and into the hospital, flashing the stars on his uniform until someone inevitably came running. They were only allowing commissioned officers to hear the status of marines wounded in combat, and after Shepard's arrival, these officers were the only non-medical staff allowed inside the hospital. "It's for morale," one of the nurses explained as he led Major Coats to the operating room, which was once a cafe.  
  
From this distance, he could see Shepard on the table,  strapped in place but motionless. There was somewhere near a dozen doctors treating her injuries; some asari, some salarian, some human. The nurse with him traded places with another nurse assisting the doctors, and Coats was able to get the details of Shepard's injuries. They were... grievous, to say the least. Bones were broken, third-degree burns covered the right half of her body, and somehow, between entering the Conduit and being found on the Citadel, she acquired a lot of cuts, scrapes, and bruises--in addition to the ones she had before the final dash with Hammer.  
  
"Will she live?" Coats asked after a moment of pause.  
  
"We don't know. We found traces of cybernetic implants, and it seems they've been keeping her alive, but... the doctor's think she might be fighting an infection."  
  
It was preferable that he hear those words rather than any of the soldiers so inspired by Commander Shepard,  but it was still hard to swallow. The woman seemed invincible when he met her; a former engineer turned marine that cheated death at every turn, and the last person he expected to find fighting for her life on a sterilized coffee table. If he hadn't seen the Reaper threat with his own two eyes, he would be hard pressed to believe she could perish like any other wounded soldier.  
  
"Godspeed, Commander," he whispered.    
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments reviews and critiques are welcome and highly encouraged! chapter summary is actually part of the same verse that we get james/garrus' "may you be in heaven half an hour before the devil knows you're dead."


	3. in loving memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> always remember to forget the friends that proved untrue. but never forget to remember those that have stuck by you.

  
“You were very lucky, Garrus.” Dr. Chakwas wiped the last bit of blood from the bit of carapace enclosing his chest, and continued to fill the cracks with medi-gel. Though it wasn’t as good of a bonding agent on turian “skin,” it would keep bacteria out of the cracks until they healed on their own. “Had Shepard and Tali’Zorah not rushed you on board when they did, I don’t think you would’ve made it.” As she made conversation, she patched him up with the same tough graft she used on the side of his head almost a year ago. That one was peeling and off by the eight month mark, but this new piece was much larger, covering most of his chest and the regions under either arm.  
  
“I know. It's not going to make it hurt any less, though, is it?” Garrus couldn’t bend to retrieve his armor, but once Chakwas began handing him the pieces, he could put them on himself. He last wore this armor during Menae and Tuchanka, and unlike Shepard's gift, there was little wear. “She shouldn’t have gone alone.”  
  
“No one’s disagreeing with you.” Once Garrus had his armor on and secured, the door to the med bay opened with a satisfying "whoosh" as filtered air met the strange cocktail from the rest of the ship. Even though the ship was crashed and/or parked, neither of them expected to see Joker on the crew deck and away from the bridge.  
  
“Hate to bother you, Dr. Chakwas, but we could use Garrus by the memorial. We... we want him to... agh!"  Even Joker’s voice was wavering and threatening to crack. The turian didn't want to think about why.  
  
“Understood, Jeff. Besides, I don’t think I could keep him cooped up here if I tried.” It hurt to be up and moving, but Chakwas was right. He had no intentions of sitting around in the aftermath of a galactic war.  
  
It seemed “we” didn’t mean the entire crew, but it included all of Shepard’s closest friends. The ones that were aboard the Normandy, at least. Ashley was stepping back from the wall when he arrived, and the crowd parted to let him through to the front. The last time he had stood before the memorial, the most recent addition was Legion. Now, EDI had a plaque attached to the right side, and Admiral David Anderson was the first name to take a place on the center. He only knew the admiral as a sort-of father figure to Shepard, who hadn’t spoken to her real father in years. Now EDI.... she was one of the last people to communicate with Hammer before the final push to the Conduit. She was someone he knew personally, and talked to often. Who else besides her could challenge his knowledge of the Normandy’s weapon systems?  
  
“I’m sorry,” Tali whispered in a voice so small, so fragile, it didn’t sound like her at all. He felt her turn over his hand, and place something thin and cold as ice in his open palm. Commander Robyn Shepard. A name with so many memories attached, but only one came to mind as he brushed a finger over the engraved letters.  
  
_“No matter what happens here,” she said, tears in her eyes, unspoken fear in her voice, “You know I love you. I always will.” The ground continued to shake in irregular intervals as the Destroyer came closer to the Normandy’s impromptu landing site. She tore her gaze away from him and back to the Reapers overwhelming their defenses and pulling closer. He fought to stay conscious, and saw her backpedaling towards the battlefield. Her focus was now on the quarian machinist helping him stand._  
  
_“Go! That’s an order!”_  
  
He stepped closer to the wall, staring at the plaque in his hands. She sounded so afraid in that last moment they spent together, but she didn't give up. She never gave up.  
  
_“I think adoption might be a better idea... biology might not cooperate.” A hint of a teasing smile was on her lips, her eyes going from stony and serious to warm, so warm..._  
  
_“Hmm... I suppose there will be a lot of little krogan around soon.”_  
  
_“We just have to beat the Reapers, first,” she sighed, the smile fading as quickly as it appeared._  
  
He lowered the plaque away from the wall. The others could think she was dead if they wanted to, but he couldn’t. She never gave up on him, or anyone, or anything. Hell would catch cold before he gave up on her.  
  
  
  



End file.
